The Way Things Have Been III
by Athena-anjali
Summary: Third story to my "The Way Things Have Been" series, in which the Rogues reflect on different aspects of their lives before they became the criminals Gotham City knows and fears. This time, Doctor Harleen Quinzel realizes after a rather unprofessional therapy session with one of her patients, that she might not be the peaceful, sane woman everyone thought she was.


"You might think I'm crazy, I know," whispered Doctor Harleen Quinzel as she stared at her reflection in the vanity in her bedroom.

Harleen's neck was covered with purple marks, and her bright red lipstick was smeared almost everywhere. "Oh, don't look at me like _that_," she frowned, as she kept staring at herself. She quickly tied her blonde hair in a ponytail and grabbed a paper towel. "We both know it would have happened, eventually. Oh, c'mon. What makes _me_ different from the other doctors? Aren't we all trying to help our patients? My angel doesn't belong to that filthy, cold Asylum. He's a free soul, a genius, and he can't be confined in a cell. How will Gotham laugh along with him if he's caged up like some animal?" Demanded Harleen, to no one in particular. She shook her head slightly, he needed her help, and she needed him. She craved him. He was the only one who could really understand her, that made her feel like everything was possible, the only one that genuinely seemed to care about her. He wanted to see her smile all the time, and he listened to her. She started to rub what remained of her lipstick with the paper towel in an attempt to get rid of it.

Harleen had never been a fan of makeup. She thought it made her look too old, and her glasses hid most of it anyway, so she rarely wore it. This time, however, she wanted to impress him; she wanted to look perfect. "You should have seen his face when I told him I will help him escape tomorrow night. He was radiant, believe me! Don't worry, I know what you're thinking, and this may seem a _little_ unethical, but didn't he teach me I should do whatever I want, as long as it puts a smile on my face?" Harleen sighed, and finally let go of the paper towel. "Sometimes getting out of your shell can be difficult, like Mister J said, but this is just what I need to do to be finally happy, you know? After all, do I really want to spend my entire life paying bills and trying to rehabilitate patients that have no chances at all? Why would I want that? He has finally opened my eyes, and he is giving me the opportunity to live the life I want with him by my side. A girl couldn't ask for more, really!" Sighed Harleen, as she smiled at her reflection. "I _need_ to do this," she continued. "What will happen tomorrow is going to put an end to this pathetic, depressing phase of my life. Everyone has always seen me as some sort of saint, a perfect student, a respectable member of society, but I am tired. We know that my angel is right: I am none of these things. No matter how hard I try, no matter how many people try to pressure me into being something I don't really want to be. Even before Mister J came into my life, all I was looking for was the feeling of being finally able to do whatever I please, but fear has always crippled me. I have always been so scared of not being enough, of not pleasing my parents, of making a fool of myself, but with Mister J all of these feelings simply disappear. I don't care anymore about what everyone will think, just like I don't care about what will happen once my puddin's out of that hell-hole, as long as we're together." Harleen glanced once more in the mirror and then stood up, walking out of her bedroom and making her way into the kitchen.

She felt like she had made the right choice, and as her eyes fell on the documents scattered on her kitchen table, she couldn't help but smile. _The Joker _was written all over the papers, and although nothing useful was reported there, given the fact that the Joker would never open up with someone that wasn't her, Harleen was still more than happy to have something related to her angel lying around in her apartment.

She would sometimes go through all the documents and read all about how other doctors before her tried to understand him, failing miserably. Nobody could understand him like she did.

After all, she was the first and only doctor to get the Joker to open up about his past. Harleen remembered that day very vividly, and it hurt her: just thinking about her puddin' going through so much pain as a child because of a negligent and violent father was enough to bring her to tears. Harleen, needless to say, didn't contribute to update those papers with what the Joker had confessed. It was something intimate he decided to share with her, and her only. God only knows how many people could access these documents, which is also the reason Harleen brought them home, and she couldn't let anyone know about the Joker's past, anyway. What if those documents ended up where they shouldn't? What if Batman wanted them? Harleen had always thought that beast was nothing but a bully, always ready to spoil her angel's fun.

The Joker had told her about the many times that vigilante would hurt him, without even giving him a chance to protect himself. Batman's behavior was repugnant to say the least, but she seemed to be the only one to see that. She wondered why the police didn't even try to stop him; how could they praise a man dressed up as a bat that constantly beats the mentally ill into a bloody pulp? Why do they let it happen without batting an eye?

Of course once or twice the feeling of being lied to crossed Harleen's mind, but she shook it off. The Joker had always been sincere with her, and so were the numerous stories he had told her, both about his past and Batman's brutality. He was a misunderstood soul, a genius only a few could really understand, and she was one of those lucky people.

Harleen's lips curled into a smile as she sat down, documents in hand. She opened one and removed the Joker's mugshot from one page, carefully tucking the picture in one of her pockets, she wanted to feel him close to her at all times. "Tomorrow's the big day, and no one will ruin it," announced Harleen, beaming. "And I couldn't be happier."


End file.
